Can't Shake You
by storyteller629
Summary: Zoe returns to Bluebell after the summer, and in characteristic fashion, miscommunication makes a seemingly simple reunion infinitely more complicated. What happens when someone from Zoe's summer follows her to Bluebell?
1. Chapter 1

**Just a possibility for the start of season 3 based on some of the spoilers that have been floating around.**

**I don't own these characters.**

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It was late as Wade climbed his porch stairs. Another day of working from opening til last call. He'd spent most of his summer doing the same. Passing his time while the business grew.

As he reached the porch, he heard the cab pull up. He knew she was due back today- Lavon had mentioned as much. Quickly, Wade slipped in the door of the gatehouse, leaving the lights off. By the light of the cab, he could see her get out of the cab, pay the driver, and struggle up the stairs with her four large suitcases. She looked just as beautiful as he remembered her, wearing her too-high heels and short shorts as she wrestled the suitcases up the short staircase. He considered going over to help her, but thought better of it. Instead, he remained in the dark, watching the lights in the carriage house turn on, then off a few minutes later. He didn't see her glance in his direction once. His heart sank.

He spent the night thinking of her and what would happen next. All summer, he'd waited. He hadn't given into calling her, although it often seemed like an hourly temptation. It was one thing when she was a few thousand miles away. But at this moment, she was so close, and his head was spinning. Sure, he'd come up with a thousand ideas for their first encounter as the summer ticked by- grand romantic gestures, moves that Lavon would definitely call "pulling her pigtails"; but he hadn't been able to settle on anything. He didn't have a plan, and it wasn't until the first birds began to stir that he'd come up with an idea. He knew the ball was in her court, but Wade could not let this drag out any longer. First, though, he knew he needed supplies.

He quietly let himself into Lavon's, hoping to not wake the sleeping couple. He set about making coffee- he'd even forgone his regular Foldgers and picked up a bag of the fancy stuff from the Dixie Stop when she'd once made a comment about how hard it was to get a good cup of coffee in Bluebell. Lavon came down the stairs as Wade reached into the fridge for the eggs, butter, and milk. Lavon took in the scene before clearing his throat.

"Oh hey, Lavon," Wade whispered quietly, "sorry if I woke ya. I'll try and be quiet."

Lavon paused before responding. With the non-stop work, Wade had been a bit of a phantom in the kitchen over the summer. Aside from an occasional beer or slice of leftover pizza missing from the fridge, there was almost no evidence that Wade came and went in the wee hours of the night. Lavon shook his head. "Nah, man, you didn't wake us. I got an early appointment in Mobile with that lawyer about the Fillmore mall again. Annabeth and me thought we'd make a day of it up there."

"Uh huh," Wade responded, turning back into the fridge. His mind was clearly elsewhere.

"Now, babe," Annabeth announced as she came downstairs, "I know you said my shoes were in the way, but what did- Oh, Wade!" she exclaimed, her eyebrows raising as she glanced at Lavon. "I didn't hear you come in." She flashed a big smile in his direction and sat next to Lavon at the counter.

"Hey, Annabeth," Wade said, emerging from the fridge with heavy cream and some fruit. He placed everything on the counter and began to crack eggs into a bowl.

"Since we haven't seen you in a 'coon's age," Lavon began, "can I assume this culinary excursion has to do with the return of a certain doctor?" Annabeth giggled and squeezed Lavon's hand.

"Oh, she's back?" Wade tried to play it cool, but the corners of his lips betrayed him. He looked down as a smile crept across his face. Annabeth looked like she was going to vibrate off her chair with excitement.

"I just knew it!" she exclaimed. "When I came down and saw you in that button-down shirt and clean jeans, I just knew this had something to do with Zoe being back. Did you talk to her last night? What did she say? Did she tell you-"

"Now, Annabeth," Lavon cut in, putting his arm around her shoulders, "let the poor man speak. You can interrogate later."

Wade grabbed a fork out of the drawer and began mixing the eggs, trying to bide some time. He knew they talked with her regularly over the summer. During those three months, he'd tried to play it cool: asking occasionally if they'd heard from her, making comments about the weather in New York, or the latest big news from New York that he'd set his phone to alert him to. He didn't want to seem desperate, but it drove him crazy to think Lavon and Annabeth had contact with Zoe, and she wouldn't call him.

"Wade?" Lavon said after a few minutes, snapping Wade out of his thoughts. "Did ya see her last night?"

"No," Wade responded, measuring out the cinnamon, vanilla and milk, beating them into the eggs. He turned to gather some bread from the cabinet. He didn't want to talk about this. His idea was only half a plan so far, and saying it out loud made it sound even worse.

"So what's the plan, Wade," Lavon asked gently. Annabeth had stilled, and she appeared as though she was willing Wade to answer. It was all too much for him.

"I don't know, OK, Lavon?" Wade snapped. "She's been gone for three months. I told her I loved her and she was gone. And there's nothing I can do about that, but I can't keep dragging this out. I'm making her breakfast, and I am going over there, and I am hoping," he paused. "I'm just hoping," he finished, sounding defeated, as he placed the skillet on the stove. His feelings were all mixed up. He'd felt hopeful when he'd started working on his idea, but now it hardly seemed like enough.

There was a pause as he fired up the stove and added butter to the skillet. Annabeth was the first to break the silence. "Well, I think it's very romantic," she said quietly. "And you know how much Zoe loves your mama's french toast recipe."

Wade sighed and smiled at her. Maybe this would work, after all, he thought, coating a piece of bread with the egg concoction. It was a place to start, at least, and he would take baby steps if he had to.

As he placed the piece of bread in the skillet, there was a knock on the back door. Standing outside the french doors was a tall, well-built man in a crisp polo shirt, pleated khakis, and wingtipped shoes. Parked next to him was a rolling suitcase, and a leather breifcase. As Lavon made his way to the door, Wade's stomach began to knot. He didn't know who this was, but he did not have a good feeling.

"Hi," the man began as Lavon opened the door, "I'm looking for Zoe Hart. Am I in the right place?"


	2. Chapter 2

**I don't own these characters.**

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Lavon turned back to Annabeth, who stared at him with her eyes wide before they both looked to Wade. He was slack jawed, but tried to recover quickly. The only sound they could hear was the sizzling of the skillet.

Lavon turned back to the stranger and nodded slightly while he tried to regain his thoughts, "uh yea, you're in the right place. Well, almost."

"Which must mean that you are Lavon Hayes," the man said, grinning, sticking out his hand to shake Lavon's enthusiastically. "And that makes you" the stranger said, looking past Lavon, "Annabeth, if I remember correctly." Annabeth nodded politely.

"Nice to meet you..." Annabeth started, trailing off.

"Joel," the stranger filled in smiling in her direction.

"Joel," she repeated. Silence filled the room again.

"Oh, sorry, he said, turning his attention to Wade, "I didn't catch your name."

Wade didn't respond. His throat was dry, and he couldn't swallow to try and speak. He had no grasp on what he felt at that moment. He shot Annabeth a look of appreciation when she responded for him, "That's Wade." Wade gave an imperceivable nod to confirm Annabeth's statement.

"OK," Joel said, glancing back to the mute man by the stove, "I think whatever's cooking on the stove is done, Wade." Wade looked down and quietly cursed under his breath. Smoke rose from the skillet while he grabbed the spatula, flipped a piece of blackened french toast to the garbage, and ran the skilled under the faucet. The sound of the cold water hitting the skillet filled the kitchen, and gave Lavon enough time to handle the situation. As the sound disappated, he stepped toward Joel.

"Let me show you Zoe's carriage house," Lavon began, before Annabeth jumped in.

"You know what, darling?" She said hopping off her stool, "let me show Joel the carriage house, and you and Wade can finish up making breakfast. I'll just grab my shoes. Lavon immediately knew she wanted him to stay behind and talk to Wade. As she walked by, he quickly grabbed her hand, and she reached up to give him a peck on the cheek. "If you knew about this," she hissed in his ear, the threat clear. He gave her an exasperated shrug as she turned, smiling at Joel.

"Now, to the carriage house," she said, as she moved towards the door.

"Before we go," Joel said, looking to the members of the kitchen, "that coffee smells amazing. Do you mind if I bring a cup to Zoe? You know how much easier it is to talk to her in the morning if you are armed with caffeine. I think she takes it with cream and sugar."

"Just cream," Wade said quickly, and all the eyes in the room turned to him.

"Ohh-kay," Annabeth said loudly, moving quickly across the kitchen towards the mugs. "You get your stuff, and I will meet you at the end of the porch with that coffee."


	3. Chapter 3

**I don't own these characters.**

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The door closed, and Lavon and Wade stood frozen. Wade looked out the French doors and Lavon stared at Wade.

"Wade, she didn't-" Lavon started, and Wade cut him off as he dumped the eggs in the sink, trying to busy himself instead of thinking about what just happened.

"Yea, Lavon," he said, forcefully placing the milk back in the fridge. He felt trapped, caged. He slammed a cabinet shut.

"Wade," Lavon said, taking a step towards the island. "Why don't you just-"

Wade stopped suddenly and looked up. "I'm gonna go, Lavon. Sorry about the mess, I'll get the rest later." And with that, he was out the door taking the long way back to his gatehouse, so he didn't have to pass the carriage house. He could hear Lavon call after him. He didn't know where he was going, but he knew he couldn't stay where he was. He grabbed his car keys from the coffee table, slammed the door of the gatehouse, and took off.

The walk to the carriage house was quiet as Annabeth tried to piece together the information she knew. Zoe hadn't mentioned anyone named Joel to her- or any men in New York, for that matter. Yet, here was this man coiffed and obviously familiar enough with Zoe that he remembered her friends' names. Well, hers and Lavon's at least. She concentrated on carrying the mug of coffee for a few more steps before asking, "so, how do you know Zoe?"

"We met in New York," he responded, giving no further information, his suitcase bumping behind him on the uneven gravel.

"Oh," she replied. Their short walk was coming to an end, and she still knew nothing. She picked up her pace a little, being careful to mind the coffee sloshing in the mug. At the base of the stairs, she turned to her companion, "let me just go check that she's awake." Annabeth left the coffee mug on the railing at the top of the steps, and stepped into the doorway, as Joel pushed the handle of his suitcase down and began to hoist it up the stairs. Annabeth knocked on Zoe's door urgently.

"Ugh, Lavon!" She heard Zoe moan from inside, "I promise we'll do lunch later. My flight was delayed and I got in sometime after 1. Please let me sleep!"

"Zoe," Annabeth called anxiously, giving another 3 sharp knocks. "You need to open up!" She tried not to sound panicked, but she needed to know more about the man waiting on the front porch. She heard movement within the carriage house, followed by a large thud, a curse, and Zoe opening the door, a pile of suitcases heaped behind her.

"Annabeth," Zoe said, still regaining her balance, but flashing a smile. She wore an oversized hoodie and a pair of boxers. Annabeth could have sworn the hoodie had once belonged to Wade, but she had too much on her mind to ask.

"Oh no no," said Annabeth, pushing past Zoe. "Don't you just 'Annabeth' me. You have some explaining to do, missy." Zoe stepped back, still holding the door handle, pivoting to face Annabeth, who was now in her front room.

"Annabeth, if this is about Wade, I haven't-"

"This is not about Wade. This is about the man that is waiting for you on your front porch." Zoe cocked her head to the side as Annabeth continued, "a man, who, by the sounds of it traveled a very long distance to see you, showing up only a few hours after you left New York." Annabeth's voice had gotten so high and her words so fast that Zoe needed a minute to process what she'd said. Annabeth crossed her arms in front of her and leaned towards Zoe, nodding her head, eyes open in anticipation.

"What," Zoe began, not because she wanted Annabeth to repeat herself, but because she was still groggy from her abrupt awakening. Her eyes grew wide as she absorbed what Annabeth said. "Is it Joel? _Joel's_ here?"

"Yes, _Joel_ is here!" Annabeth mocked Zoe's reaction, "just how many men do you have lining up to come see you down here, exactly?" she asked with exasperation. Zoe wasn't listening to her. Immediately, she had pulled both her hands to her head, trying to smooth out the bedhead. Now, she was running through the carriage house towards the bathroom, grabbing what Annabeth assumed was her outfit from last night off the floor beside the bed. Annabeth heard the water running, what sounded like a quick swipe of a toothbrush, spitting, and the sound of makeup bottles clinking on the porcelain sink. Zoe emerged moments later, still trying to tame her hair.

"OK, do I look OK?" she asked, giving up and throwing her hair back into an elastic.

"You look fine," Annabeth started, "but you still haven't-"

"I know AB. I owe you an explanation. I promise I will soon. Really. And you're sure I look OK?"

"Yes," Annabeth replied flabbergasted, as Zoe walked past her, through the door and opened the front door. Joel stood, his face beaming when he saw her through the screen door. From behind her, Annabeth could see Zoe square her shoulders and take a breath before greeting him.

"Hey stranger," he said, standing up from where he'd been leaning against the railing, "I brought you some coffee."

She smiled and accepted the mug. Annabeth cleared her throat. "Well, we have an appointment in Mobile, and I'd hate to make Lavon late. Zoe, you'll have to tell me all about your trip when I get back. And Joel," she said, waiting for his gaze to leave Zoe, "I do hope to learn some more about you." As she started down the stairs, she heard Zoe invite Joel in, the screen door close behind him. On the other side of the pond, she heard the Mustang start and peel out of the driveway. Annabeth sighed and walked back toward the main house.


	4. Chapter 4

**Still don't own the characters.**

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It was just after the morning rush when Wade entered the Rammer Jammer. He'd spent the last few hours driving to all of his usual hideaways, but nothing felt right. He couldn't stand the idea of seeing people, but he couldn't handle another moment of being alone with his thoughts. Going to the bar felt safe, and his only option.

A familiar voice greeted him as he entered the bar. "Wade Kinsella, you best be getting a late breakfast or an early lunch to-go," Lemon chirped, coming out from behind the bar. "I told you I didn't want to see you for the next three days at least!" Her smile changed to a look of concern as he brushed past her, scoffing. He took his place behind the bar, swinging a towel over his shoulder as he began to rinse the glasses from breakfast.

"Wade," she said, following him behind the bar, her voice low. "What in the world happened? Did you talk to Doctor Hart?"

"Didn't need to, Lemon," he replied, his eyes looking straight ahead. "She said just about all she needed to when her shiny new man showed up at Lavon's this morning."

Lemon was clearly flustered. "Well, that is it. We are definitely going to have to use Lemon Breeland's plan B to bring Zoe Hart to her senses."

Wade gave her a sidelong glance. He didn't know what the plan was, but he was sure he wouldn't like it. "Lemon," he started to say, as the door to the Rammer Jammer opened, revealing Zoe and her mystery man from New York.

"Just play along," Lemon hissed in his ear, throwing an arm around his shoulder. "Oh sugar bear," she started, loud enough for them to hear across the bar, "you are just too much!" Her fake flirtatious giggle was accompanied by a playful push to his arm. She leaned up to peck him on the cheek. "Loosen up," she whispered, "we have to sell this." As Wade was about to put an end to the charade, he saw Joel pull the chair out for Zoe, her eyes glued to the couple behind the bar. She broke her gaze to smile at Joel, and Wade felt the jealousy well up. He put a hand on Lemon's hip and kissed her temple.

"There you go," Lemon said, a smile plastered to her face. "Now you're getting the plan. Follow me," she said, putting her hand on top of his and leading him to the back office.

Shelley delivered menues to the table, and Zoe immediately took up hers, studying it thoroughly. "Joel glanced at the menu before asking, "what's good here?"

"Uh huh," Zoe replied, her eyes glued to the text. He chuckled and nudged her foot under the table.

"Earth to Zoe," he said, peeking over her menu. "I asked what's good."

She looked up and realized Lemon and Wade had disappeared. Probably to the back room. Why hadn't anyone told her about them? And since when could Lemon Breeland and Wade stomach each other long enough to work a shift together, much less date? This was not the homecoming Zoe envisioned. She looked at Joel's smiling eyes. "Um, you know what," she said, "I'm starving. Let's go to the bakery, it'll be faster." She couldn't tell him that what she wanted to order was the French Toast, because she knew Wade would make it especially for her. Joel raised an eyebrow, but nodded at her, pushing his chair back as she stood. He followed her out into the Alabama heat.

In the back room, Lemon spun around with a serious look on her face. "OK," she began, pulling out her phone. "We start with damage control."

Wade sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets, "what are you doing, Lemon?"

Lemon rolled her eyes at him, "Annabeth and Lavon need to back us up. We'll have to get Dash to post-date a blog entry. One that at least hints that we were spotted together at places other than here. Oh! We'll have to get daddy on board, too. He probably won't be happy, but we can use that." She pulled a pad of paper from the desk and started scribbling down notes.

Leaning against the wall, Wade reached up to rub the back of his neck, "I'm not sure this-"

"Don't be silly," quipped Lemon, flipping her hand in his direction. "We are just going to remind your Doctor Hart what a catch you are. We'll have her chasing that intruder out of town and knocking down your door in a few days." Wade groaned in response. He wasn't sure this was a smart plan. In fact, it felt like lying to Zoe would be far from moving forward. But what were his other choices? She didn't even look in his direction last night. It wasn't until she saw Lemon hanging off him that she'd even glanced at him. Maybe this would be enough to at least get her to talk to him. Wade looked up to see Lemon looking at him, expectantly.

"Fine," he grunted. "No more than a week." She smiled broadly and scribbled furiously on her pad of paper. Wade knew he was in for a hell of a week.


	5. Chapter 5

Wade worked through closing, but Zoe didn't reappear, and neither did Joel. Lemon popped in and out, chittering in his ear, and giving just enough smiles and winks from across the bar to turn the heads of the Bluebell gossips. Before closing, Lemon came up and took Wade's hand. "Wanda's agreed to close up for us," she said, loud enough for some of the locals to hear, "why don't you take me home?" Wade felt uncomfortable, but Lemon gave him a look that said he'd better agree.

"Yea, OK," he said, holding out his arm for her. The two walked out of the bar as heads turned, following them out. When they left, Lemon squealed with excitement at the success of her plan.

"Now," she began, holding her pad of paper out as he closed the car door for her. She jotted down a few more notes while she waited for him to get in. "We'll go back to your place and stay there tonight..."

"Now hold on, Lemon," Wade interjected, facing her. "You know this isn't real, right? I mean, you and me, we aren't actually gonna-"

"Yuck, Wade. I know that. But we have to make it look believable. And what will be more believable than Dash getting an anonymous tip and catching a shot of me leaving your place tomorrow morning?"

"No." Wade replied firmly, and Lemon was taken aback. He was starting to come to his senses, and he knew he couldn't throw away everything he'd worked for in the last six months. "That's too far, Lemon." He turned in the direction of her apartment and they rode in silence. He didn't care to elaborate on what he'd already said, and she knew he was serious, so she didn't push it.

"I'm goin' fishin' tomorrow morning," he told her as Lemon left the car. "I'll be in for lunch."

The next morning, Lemon was behind the bar when Joel walked in, just as the breakfast rush was coming to a close. He took a seat at the bar, forcing Lemon to be his waitress.

As she brought him a menu, Joel reached out his hand across the bar. "Hi, I'm Joel," he began, waiting for her to take his hand in kind, "Dr. Hart persuaded me to visit Bluebell, and I thought I'd stay for a while."

Lemon gave her name and limply took his hand out of politeness. But when their hands touched, an involuntary giggle escaped her lips. She was surprised at how soft his hands felt, and how firm his handshake was. She couldn't be sure, but he looked familiar. She shook her head quickly to clear her thoughts. Well, if he was going to insert himself in her day, she might as well get some information out of him. After all, Lemon Breeland was a master at taking people down when she knew their weaknesses.

"Welcome to Bluebell," she started, standing up straight and flashing him a smile. "What can I get for you, today?"

"You know, since yesterday, I've had a craving for French Toast. Is it any good here?" Joel asked, looking her straight in the eyes.

"Why yes," Lemon responded taking a small step back from his gaze. "It's a secret family recipe. One of our top sellers."

"It sounds great," he responded, handing her his menu. "And I'll take a coffee, room for cream and sugar." Although Lemon could have called the order through the window, she walked back to the kitchen. She took a deep breath. What, exactly, was going on with this man? And why in the world was her stomach flip-flopping when he looked at her? It was clear that she was going to need a plan for extracting information from him. And what about Wade. He said insinuating sleeping together was too far, but he didn't say it was off altogether. She'd already managed to call Annabeth last night, she sweet talked Dash into slipping in a tweet dated last week that put them together at Fancys. And based on the text messages she got back from daddy, the role of disapproving parent was sealed. Since the wheels were already turning, she thought, maybe riding this out really would be the best way to do it. First, she decided, she would need more information about this handsome stranger. She shook her head. Stranger. Just stranger. Who said he was handsome? She walked out to the bar.

"I assume you are from New York?" Lemon asked, pouring him a cup of coffee. She put it down in front of him, and turned to grab the creamer and sugar.

"I am," he replied, taking the creamer from her hand. She felt his fingers brush hers, and she instantly pulled back, causing some to spill over the side. She busied herself by getting a rag and wiping away the errant drops of cream. She cleared her throat.

"And what is it that you do there, exactly?"

"I'm a writer," Joel started, and she looked at him. "Well, a journalist." She continued to stare. "OK", he said, taking a sip of coffee in what seemed an attempt to stall the complete truth, "I write for the ESPN blog. But it's really a stepping stone for where I want to end up. You've got to start somewhere, you know?" He looked at her with a half-smile. Lemon remembered her own foray into jobs before owning the Rammer Jammer. She did know, she thought. She nodded her head in confirmation. She'd expected him to be another doctor that Zoe Hart had met at the hospital. When did she have time to meet a sports blogger? All Lemon heard all summer from Annabeth was how busy Dr. Hart was in her fancy hospital. Lemon decided to press on.

"Where did you meet our Doctor Hart," she asked, making her best attempt to lean nonchalantly on the bar. 'How in the world did Wade make it look so natural,' she thought to herself.

"Funny story really. A few months ago, it was pouring one morning, and we were both trying to hail the same cab. I got to it first, but she's such a spit-fire, that she almost dragged me out by my collar. After yelling at me for having," he paused, putting on his best Zoe impression, "'absolutely no manners,'" he returned to his normal voice, "and something about 'damn Yankees', I persuaded her to share the cab. I guess she was pretty embarrassed by what she said, because by the time we got across town to the hospital, she'd apologized and offered to make it up to me. She said she'd only be in town a few months, but gave me her number. I called her that very night and-" he was cut off by the sharp sound of the bell from the kitchen. Lemon jumped up and saw Wade in the doorway. She didn't know how much he'd heard, but from his set jaw and balled fists, she knew it was enough.

"Schmoopy bear!" she called across the bar, "did you catch us anything good for dinner?" She quickly grabbed the French Toast from the window, trying not to break eye contact with Wade. She needed to get him out of here, now. She placed the plate in front of Joel, and excused herself. She came around the bar and made a bee-line for Wade. As she reached him, she plastered a smile on her face, and a hand on his chest. "Let me just show you that start of the hornets nest that I was telling you about last night, darling," she cooed, as she forcefully pushed him back outside.


	6. Chapter 6

Zoe waited exactly two minutes after she saw Lavon's truck pull in the driveway before marching over to the main house.

"La-von," she started, emphasizing both syllables in his name and slamming the door behind her for good measure. "Where have you been? I have been calling you and texting you for the last day!"

"Zoe!" he exclaimed, trying to break her mood. He knew he was in for it, but he thought he might be able to at least diffuse some of the tension. "Now come on, girl. You haven't seen Lavon Hayes in three months, and you don't even offer him a hug?" He moved towards her, arms outstretched. "Did New York do away with all those manners we've been tryin' to teach you in Bluebell?"

She let him hug her, and it seemed to do a little bit of what he was hoping for. When he let go, her shoulders weren't quite as close to her ears as they had been. "Where have you been?" Zoe demanded, again, and Lavon grabbed a water bottle from the fridge before taking a seat at the breakfast counter.

"Sorry, Z," he began, taking a swig of water, "me and Annabeth had some stuff to do in Mobile, and decided to make it into a getaway." He left out the part where he'd practically begged Annabeth to pack an overnight bag after Joel showed up yesterday. Lavon missed Zoe and was happy to have her back, but as he told Annabeth, he needed to ease back into her particular brand of crazy.

Zoe poured herself a cup of coffee from the pot she'd made earlier. She'd been pretty impressed that Lavon had gotten the good stuff from the Dixie Stop. She'd smiled earlier when she thought that maybe she did have things to offer to Bluebell. Annabeth entered as Zoe replaced the coffee pot.

"Zoe!" she yelled, rushing towards her for a hug. She stopped just before reaching her, "wait- is it just you today?" Zoe nodded to confirm.

"Just me, Annabeth."

"OK, good," she said, and threw her arms around Zoe. "Now," she demanded, breaking the hug, "you have a lot to fill us in on, girl. So let me get some tea, and we are going to discuss." Zoe rolled her eyes while Annabeth took a cup from the cupboard and poured herself some tea from the refrigerator. She sat beside Lavon at the counter, while Zoe perched on the island, her coffee cup next to her.

"Before I start," Zoe said, Lavon and Annabeth's full attention on her, "I can't believe you guys didn't tell me about Wade." Annabeth's eyes got big.

"Wade?" Lavon asked, his eyebrows raising. He started to take a sip of water and continued, "What about-"

"Wade and Lemon!" Zoe practically screeched, leaning towards Lavon and Annabeth. "How could you not-"

"Wade and-" Lavon started to ask putting down his waterbottle, but was cut off by a sharp pain to his ankle, accompanied by a small throat clear from beside him. This must have been what AB was telling him about last night as he was drifting off to sleep. He vaguely remembered something about a plan, and needing to go along with it, but it made almost no sense at the time, so he thought it was a dream. "Oh, well, uh, yea," Lavon tried to recover, "well, that's, uh, pretty recent, and, uh, it took us all by surprise."

"Yeah," chimed in Annabeth, "plus, you know, with Wade spending all his time at the Rammer Jammer, we haven't had much of a chance to get the full scoop from him. And Lemon said they were keepin' it hush-hush, for the sake of the business, you know." Annabeth tried to flash a smile at Zoe.

Zoe looked crushed. Her shoulders slumped and she looked down at her hands. "Yea, OK," she mumbled. Both Lavon and Annabeth felt awful lying to her, but when Lavon looked at Annabeth to try and convince her to tell the truth, Annabeth shot back a look that said this was the plan they were sticking to. Lavon knew not to argue. Annabeth looked back to Zoe.

"So," she drawled, adopting her girl-talk voice, "tell us about this tall drink of water of yours. How long is he going be be around?"

"Ugh," Zoe replied, and the couple turned to look at one another. This was hardly the reaction they expected. "That's why I was calling you, Lavon. I kind of need your help."

"You need me to get rid of him," Lavon said, sitting up straight in his chair. "'Cause it's been a while since Lavon Hayes has had to pick a man up by his trousers and show him he's not welcome, but I think I could handle it."

Zoe cracked a small smile. "No," she said, rolling her eyes and imitating his deep voice,"Lavon Hayes does not have to pick him up by his trousers. But-" she paused to give him her best puppy dog eyes. "I did kind of promise that he could do an exclusive interview for a series on the ESPN blog?"

"What?" Lavon exclaimed, as he placed the bottle of water down on the counter. Annabeth put a hand over his. "How desperate were you to impress this guy, exactly?"

"No, Lavon," Zoe sighed. "It's not like that. We shared a cab during my first week back to New York. It was raining, and I was running late. It's impossible to get a cab in the rain in New York, and when one pulled up and he tried to get in, I was kind of a jerk. He convinced me to share the cab, and I felt bad, so I gave him my number and told him I owed him one." She paused to see both sets of eyes glued to her face.

"Go on," Annabeth cued, impatiently.

"And I just felt so alone in that city, you guys. My old friends seemed like different people, and most of the people from work had moved on to other jobs. It was just nice to have someone to talk to. His family is originally from the South, so he actually liked hearing my stories about this place, which was pretty much all I wanted to talk about. He's a writer. Or at least he wants to be. He's working on a few things, but he says keeping his name in play on the ESPN blog gets him some recognition."

"And Lavon Hayes plays into this, how, exactly?" Lavon asked, impatient to see what he'd been volunteered for.

"Well, I told you, I felt bad about the way we met, and once he told me what he did, I mentioned you being my friend, and he was really interested in meeting you. Said he was thinking about a story about what happens after a career like yours, and you'd be the perfect guy, since you went on to be a respected Mayor and all."

Lavon seemed to strut in his seat. "I guess I have done rather well for myself," he said. Zoe smiled. She'd stroked his ego enough, and she knew he'd do this for her. At least that was one thing off her mind. Now the next: finding Joel a place to stay that wasn't her couch.


	7. Chapter 7

It was two days later when Dash came bustling into the Rammer Jammer. He sat down in front of Wade, with a recorder in one hand, and a tablet in the other. "Any comment on the latest breaking news?" he asked Wade, shoving the recorder towards him.

"Latest what, Dash?" Wade asked, recoiling from the invasion of personal space.

"Well, now that _Lemonade_ is public," Dash began, giving Wade a wink as he emphasized the combination of their names, "I was wondering what you thought of the latest _Zoel_ news. Or is it _Joey_ news? I'll have to work on that," Dash thought aloud.

"I don't know what you're talkin' about, Dash, but you can order or you can leave."

"Now hold your horses," Dash replied, handing him the tablet. Wade only glanced at the headline, which read _Is Doctor Hart Making House Calls?_, and showed a picture of Zoe jumping from the back of a moving truck into the waiting arms of Joel. Wade thrust the tablet back towards Dash, yelling to Wanda that he was going on break.

"I'll take that as no comment," Dash whispered into his voice recorder, and hopped off the barstool to leave.

It was Lemon who came after him when she heard the back screen door slam. She knew it had to be about Zoe, but she didn't know the specifics. He was breaking down boxes from this morning's produce delivery. He stomped on one, cursing under his breath.

"Wade," Lemon started. He spun around and then turned back to the boxes.

"I'm fine, Lemon," he huffed, picking up the offending box and adding it to the dumpster.

"Wade Kinsella," Lemon stated, her voice firm. "This is not fine. You have destroyed that box, and for the life of me, I can't figure out what it ever did to you," she added, hoping to at least get a smile out of him. He picked up the next box and set it on it's side while he raised a foot. "You still haven't talked to her, have you?" Lemon asked, although she already knew the answer.

"No, Lemon," he replied, the satisfying crunch of the box under his foot emphasized his point. "She has made everything she wants to say mighty clear with her actions." He picked up the box to put it in the dumpster.

"Now, Wade-" Lemon began. Wade spun toward her.

"You heard him, Lemon. Months they've been together. She had plenty of time to tell me, and she didn't. Now they're moving in together, and I wish she woulda just stayed in New York." He paused, his anger deflating. "I did what she wanted, Lemon. I gave her space, and I kept trying to be the man she wanted me to be. Fat lot a good that did me."

"Wade Kinsella," she said, knowing now was the time for one of her pep talks. "You know I care for you, but you are being an idiot. Look at this bar," she said, pointing to the back of the Rammer Jammer. "Business is up, and we are booking months in advance. You have spent your entire summer toiling away at this place to make that happen. I've told you before, and I will tell you again, you _are_ a changed man. Zoe Hart is an idiot, too, but that isn't your fault. You did do what she asked you to, and she's still not ready to see what's staring her right in the face. Now," she said, "we are going back into that bar and figuring out our next move. We can't have those out-of-towners ousting the newest power-couple of Bluebell, can we?" She winked at Wade, who only shook his head.

"I don't want-"

"Don't be silly," she cut him off with finality. "This is the plan, and we are sticking to it." With that, she took his arm and dragged him inside.

It was hour two of Joel's interview with Lavon. They had set up a series of three days for Joel to follow Lavon around, to get, as Joel explained, "the day to day" of his job. Lavon didn't mind the company as he mitigated an argument in the dog park about the rightful owner of a tennis ball, assured he could not sample Mrs. Hara's gumbo in order to "prime" himself for the contest later this year, and settled a parking ticket by attesting to Mr. James that even _if_ he left his flashers on, parking in the intersection was still illegal. There was also the phone call from Todd Gainey about the litigation surrounding the mall. The injunction still held for now, but ever since Gainey's barn needed some extensive repairs, there was a renewed campaign on Gainey's part to see the mall through. Lavon had used some choice words for Gainey in their last call, a move he regretted when he saw Joel scribbling notes on a small pad of paper.

After about an hour of small talk and paperwork, Lavon figured he was losing his charm. "Well," he said, jumping to his feet, "what do you say we go get some lunch," he said before thinking through his whole thought, "The Rammer Jammer's got some great burgers." He paused, hearing what he said. Before he could back-peddle, Joel had agreed. Lavon shrugged to himself. Not like there were many other options in town.

"Should we call Zoe?" Joel asked. "Maybe she could meet us there."

"Uh, yeah," Lavon said, playing out the potential scene in his head. "I'll, uh, text her and see if she can meet us. But you know, she gets real busy at the practice, and she's only been back a few days." He took out his phone and texted AB. _I need you to take Zoe to lunch at the Butter Stick. Will explain later. Txt me back so I know you got this. _When his phone chimed, he pretended to look disappointed. "Looks like Annabeth beat us to her- she says they already have plans."

Upon entering the Rammer Jammer, Lavon steered Joel to a table away from the bar. He hoped to avoid Wade's attention as much as possible. He knew it was a fool's plan, but it was the best he could do. It was only a few minutes before Lemon came over with menues.

"Mayor Hayes," she said, curtly. "Mr. … Joel." Joel nodded in acknowledgement.

"Lemon," Lavon responded, glancing at the bar, "Where's your, uh, boyfriend?"

"_Wade_," she replied, his name emphasized, "had to go to Mobile to get a part for the dishwasher. They couldn't deliver it until Thursday, and we didn't want to wait. That's Wade," she chirped, looking at Joel, "always doing what needs to be done."

"Right," Lavon said, breathing a tiny sigh of relief. "Well, OK, let's order then."

After Lemon took their orders, Lavon and Joel sat quietly for a few moments. "So, uh, how's things going settling in with Zoe?" Lavon asked. "She's been so busy with the move and going back to work that I haven't seen her in a few days.

"Settling in with Zoe?" Joel repeated. "Oh no-we're not, I mean- the place is great, but she's still at your place." Lavon looked confused.

"But the moving truck-" he trailed off.

"Yeah, that's some of my stuff from New York. I've been enjoying it down here, and I think it's a good place for me to write. Zoe's been great- helping me with the move, convincing Frank to order the tea blends I like and some espresso for my machine. She's a real life saver."

"That's our Zoe," Lavon said, taking a sip of the water Lemon dropped off. The wheels were turning in Lavon's mind. He dropped his voice, "so you and Zoe aren't..." he let the words trail off, using his eyes to communicate the rest of the sentence.

"Together? No," Joel responded, stirring the ice in his glass with the straw. "Not that I wouldn't want to, mind you, but she made it pretty clear she was only interested in something platonic. She said she wasn't even supposed to think about more men while she was in New York, whatever that meant."

"Did she," Lavon asked, his eyebrows raised. "Well, I'll be." Before Joel could follow up, Lemon arrived with their burgers.

"Mr. Mayor. Joel." Lemon said, placing a plate in front of each man. "I hope you enjoy your meal," she said, turning on her heel. The men ate and left money for Lemon, who clearly did not want to spend more time with them. Lavon itched to talk to Zoe, but he had to figure out a way to do it without Joel.


	8. Chapter 8

Zoe heard the front bell of the practice ring just after she'd returned from lunch with Annabeth. She didn't think there were any appointments scheduled for the day, but maybe it was Mr. Smits with another boil on his thigh. Zoe sincerely hoped not.

When her office door opened to reveal Lavon, Zoe was happily surprised. She stood to greet her friend.

"Hey Lavon, what's-" she started. Her expression changed quickly as he took two strides towards her desk, brow furrowed.

"Don't you 'hey Lavon' me," he said, reaching her desk and leaning on it so they were at eye level. "You have some 'splaining to do, Zoe Hart. I just came from lunch with Joel, and found out some very interesting information."

Zoe had a moment of panic before she realized what Lavon was talking about. She slumped in her chair, head on the desk. Seeing her defeat, Lavon also seemed to back off. He sat in a chair across from her, his face held a look of concern.

"Oh, God," Zoe started, "Lavon, what am I going to do?" She looked up at her friend, and he could see her eyes were starting to fill with tears."

"Hey, hey. None of that," he responded. "First tell me why you are faking a relationship with this guy."

Hearing the words from her best friend's mouth made Zoe feel ridiculous. Two large tears tumbled down her face. How could she even start to explain this to him? "I didn't expect Joel to show up so soon after I got back, but his deadline was pushed up, so he wanted to get going on the story. And then we got to the Rammer Jammer, and I thought I could surprise Wade, but there he was with Lemon hanging off him. I was just so hurt, Lavon."

"So you lied to us?" She could tell by his voice that he was hurt.

"I didn't really lie," she said, but it sounded lame to her, too. "I just let everyone think what they would think when they saw me showing Joel around and getting him settled in." Lavon crossed his arms in response, and Zoe hurriedly continued, "Lavon, I couldn't take being back in town for less than 24 hours and getting pity pies and hear all the whispering. I thought I could just let people think what they would think, and, I don't know, in a few weeks we'd just sort of 'drift apart' when everything settled down."

Lavon uncrossed his arms and now leaned his elbows on his knees. He put his head down and used his thumbs to rub between his eyes, as though this news had provided him with a doozy of a headache. She watched him, waiting for the response that he was clearly crafting. He sighed, then looked up.

"You've gotta talk to him, Z. I can't say much more than that, but just do yourself a favor and talk to him, please?" Zoe gave a small, noncommittal nod in response. "And no more fake dating. You hear me? Lavon Hayes is getting too old to keep up around here," he finished. Zoe gave a small smile and wiped her eyes.

Lavon stood and held out his arms. Zoe walked around her desk to hug him. She knew she was forgiven for lying to him. "Thanks, Lavon. Please don't say anything? Not even to Annabeth? I'm pretty embarrassed by the whole thing. " There was a pause before she felt him nod in response. After a moment, she pulled away. "I thought Joel was spending the day with you?" she asked him.

"Oh yea, I should probably go save him. I told Dash that he would be a great guest judge for his young blogger's contest. I bet Joel is eyeball deep in all of the latest drama of Bluebell High." With that, he gave a smile and turned to leave. "Talk to him," he said again, as he left her office. Zoe nodded and bit her lip. She knew she had to talk to him, but where could she begin?

After a mostly quiet few hours passed leaving Zoe alone with her thoughts, she heard the practice's bell ring again in the late afternoon. She'd let Addie go home a few hours early to enjoy the day, so Zoe poked her head out of her office to see who was there.

Upon seeing her, the old man's eyes lit up. "Hey Doc," he exclaimed. One hand appeared to be wrapped in rags, and he cradled it with his other arm.

Zoe smiled at the nickname, her stomach fluttering to think of the last time she'd heard anyone call her that. She quickly looked down to the cradled hand and back up to the patient.

"Earl, what happened?"

Earl continued towards her, and she held open the door to her office. "Oh, nothin' much to worry about, Doc. I was just doin' some work at the workbench and nicked myself with the band saw." Zoe noticed that his eyes were clear, and he looked recently showered and well-kept. "I think it mostly stopped bleedin' by the time I got down here," he said, sitting on her exam table, "but I figured since I'd made it this far, I'd might as well have someone take a look. No one told me you was back in town, else I woulda nicked it sooner!" He gave his trademark Kinsella smirk.

Zoe's heart melted a bit, and she couldn't help but picture that same smirk on Wade. "OK, Cassanova," she said with a smile, reaching toward the rags, "let's see that hand of yours." She unwrapped his hand to reveal a cut on his first three fingers, just above the knuckle. "It doesn't look too bad," she said, bending his fingers to check range of motion, "let me flush it out and make sure nothing got in there that'll cause an infection." Earl nodded his head in understanding.

Zoe gathered some saline, tweezers, bandages, tape, gauze, ointment, and a few other supplies and placed them on a tray next to the table. She sat on a stool and gently took Earl's hand in her own and used her other hand to pour the saline over it. Earl gasped a little from the cool sting of the saline hitting the abrasions. "Sorry!" Zoe said, slightly startled, "I should have warned you it might be cold."

"No problem, Doc," Earl said with a slight chuckle. "I think I can handle that." He was quiet while Zoe finished flushing out the wound. He gave her a smile when she said he didn't need stitches and began to dress the wounds. While she was working, he spoke, "when'd ya get back, Doc?"

"Oh, a few days," she said, trying to sound nonchalant. Zoe didn't look up from her work. She wanted to ask Earl a million questions, but she knew it was crossing a line. When he only gave a small grunt in response, Zoe felt the need to keep going. "Well, you know, Brick had the practice all summer, so I've been stuck in this office all day every day while he makes up for lost fish, or something." Zoe glanced up quickly to try and see if he bought her story. Earl's eyes, so strikingly similar to Wade's stared back at her intently. She looked down again and continued to apply the ointment.

For a while, neither spoke. Earl finally broke the silence. "Did I ever tell you that Wade's mama left me once?" Zoe stopped working, a bit taken aback. Earl continued, seemingly well aware that he had her attention. "It was before the boys. Well, even before I was ready to think about the boys. I reckon I've never even told Wade about it, to be truthful."

Zoe left the squares of gauze placed gently over the ointment on each finger, and looked up at Earl with a quizzical look. The man gave her a half-smile and resumed his story. "The Kinsella stubbornness and stupidity, that didn't just start with my boys," a chuckle escaped from his lips, causing Zoe to smile in return. "A few years after I'd worked so hard to get Jackie to date me, it came down to the classic story. She was ready to settle down and start a family, and I thought I had some wild oats in me left to sow. So I started to get real close to doin' things I'd later regret." He paused and looked at his left ring finger, as though he were staring at a ring. "She told me in no uncertain terms that she was not going to put up with any of that, and she left me. For 'bout a half minute, I thought she was doing me a favor. Thought I was free to live my life as I wanted to." Zoe continued to look at him, her smile having faded. He didn't make eye contact.

"Then?" she probed. She obviously knew how the story ended, but she wanted to know how they managed to get over the part that so closely resembled Zoe's here and now.

"Well," the tips of Earl's ears got pink, "I tried to go home with a woman just once," he paused, clearly embarrassed. "But it didn't mean anything, and I realized it just in the nick of time. Then," he said, shaking off the thought, "then I spent the next two months trying to prove myself to Jackie. I saved up my paychecks to buy her a ring and have some money for a house. I wooed her like you wouldn't believe. And every day that she even looked in my direction, I thanked my lucky stars, and let that keep me goin'. And on the day that I knew she finally forgave me? I slipped that ring right on her finger and refused to let her go."

Zoe looked away to wipe a tear from the corner of her eye. She grabbed a roll of gauze and set her focus on wrapping his fingers. She wanted to say something, but knew her voice would betray her.

"If I'd've been a better father, I probably would've told Wade that story a long time ago," he said quietly. Zoe looked up at him, wondering just how much he knew. The old man seemed to read her mind as he replied, "I don't know all the details, Doc. Old Crazy Earl's the last one to get any gossip around here. But I know my boy, and I know that he was happy for a time, and he's been low for a while. And I can put together the reasons why. But I also know," he began, his eyes regaining their glimmer, "that he might be even more pigheaded than his daddy."

Zoe gave a small smile as she ripped the last piece of tape. "Thanks, Earl," she said, getting up from her stool. She grabbed a sheet of paper and jotted some notes. "Here's some information for how to care for the wounds. I'll send you home with all the stuff you'll need. The pain shouldn't be too bad, but take some advil if you need to." She knew she was using her doctor's voice to avoid really talking about things, just as she knew that she couldn't look him in the eye again.

Earl nodded, took the small bag and piece of paper from her, and said his goodbyes. Zoe sighed as the door closed behind him, her thoughts seeming even more disoriented than before. Earl's story was sweet, but her story seemed so much more complicated. For one thing, Wade had slept with someone else. And for another, he didn't seem all that interested in getting her back anyway, so what was the point?


	9. Chapter 9

Lemon knew it was time to do her research. She still couldn't place Joel, and in order to know how to bring down the new couple, she needed all the information she could get. From Annabeth, she learned that he wrote for the ESPN blog, so she started there. Three authors with a first name of Joel came up in her initial search. One had a picture next to his byline, which ruled him out immediately. The other two would take a bit more work. A quick search showed that Joel Foster was a fledgling writer, just out of college and off a career-ending shoulder injury. The Google results for Joel Paulson, however, made her jaw drop. Lemon set about reading up on their Bluebell visitor, and hoped he would be in at his usual time for breakfast.

When he arrived a short time later, Joel took a seat at what had become his usual spot at the bar, smiled, and offered a greeting to Lemon. Since that first day he'd come in by himself, Lemon had taken it upon herself to serve him, as she wanted to spare Wade. Today was no different. When he sat, she came by with a menu, and Wade faded to the other side of the bar. This time, however, Lemon was brewing a plan. She wanted him to know that she held some cards up her sleeve. It was just a matter of how cavalier she could be.

When he put his menu down, she walked over with a small order pad. For a single order, she didn't need to write it down to remember it, but it was meant to be a distraction more than anything. Lemon held the notepad before her, pencil ready. Her eyes were focused on the paper. "What can I get you, Mr. Paulson?" she asked, her voice even. She slid her eyes up, keeping her face focused on the pad.

The question had the desired effect. Joel's eyebrows raised and he looked at her with curiosity. She knew he was on her hook. "I think I'll go for the two eggs scrambled with wheat toast this morning," he replied, a smile playing at the edge of his lips.

She avoided his eyes, and looked back down at her pad. "That'll be up in a minute," she replied, as she turned on her heel. She walked the order back to the kitchen, quite pleased with herself. He knew she knew who he was, and she felt like she held all the cards.

When she returned with his plate, he was still studying her. He said nothing until she turned to leave. "How long have you known," he asked, his features appeared a mix between amused and concerned.

"How long do you think you could hide out in Bluebell as the heir to the largest poultry company in Alabama before someone recognized you?" she countered.

"Fair enough," he gave a nod. "I might have gotten accustomed to the anonymity of New York City. I had a few blissful years of no one knowing my family business. I guess it was a matter of time before someone around here put it together." He paused, and took a sip of his coffee. "Second biggest, by the way." Lemon raised an eyebrow and he continued, "since we had to sell off some of the processing aspects to another company, we are the second biggest poultry company. Although," he added, a flirtatious smile crossed his lips, "we were very well compensated for that, and our revenues have gone through the roof in the last two years."

Lemon almost felt herself return a smile, but quickly shook her head. This was not the time for flirting. She had confirmed her theory, and it was not good. That Doctor Hart appeared to have excellent taste, and if the internet could be trusted about his net worth? Well, Lemon Breeland was no quitter, but she knew Wade's competition was pretty stiff. Lemon turned to walk away, and then had a thought.

"Well, that is just peachy for your family," she quipped in an attempt to cover her flustered mind. "But does Doctor Hart know about your connections?" Lemon needed to ascertain how much Zoe knew.

Joel sat up a bit straighter. "Like I said," he began, "there's a certain level of anonymity when you live more than a hundred miles outside of this area. She never made the connection, and I," he shrugged, "don't like to brag, you know." He flashed another smile at her. Lemon could have sworn he was flirting with her, and it made her scowl. The smile wiped from his face. "She knows I grew up in a small town, but not much else."

"So you failed to mention that your daddy employed two thirds of the people that happened to live in that small town?" She didn't know why she snipped at him, but the words were out of her mouth before she could stop them.

He was colder, too, now. "It didn't come up," he said shortly.

Lemon made a mental note. She wasn't sure when that information might come in handy, but she was always one to collect such tidbits. There was an awkward silence between the two as Joel appeared to brace for more accusations. Lemon needed time to figure out her next move. "Enjoy your meal," she said as she started to move to the other side of the bar.

"Hold on a second," Joel said, and Lemon stopped. She tried to think of something witty, but her mind was still working out the information she'd just collected. She rolled her eyes as she turned back.

"What is it," she said, as she tried to sound put out. She didn't want to admit that she actually maybe enjoyed talking to Joel just a little bit.

"Can I get some ketchup?" Joel asked, and flashed another smile. Lemon didn't realize she was holding her breath, waiting for him to say something about their previous exchange until she felt the air escape her chest. She handed him the ketchup silently, and groaned when he winked at her. She moved away from the bar and back to her office. She needed time to plan.

Two hours later, Lemon had a plan. She tried to convince Wade, but he was resistant.

"Please, Wade," she tried, "you have to trust me. We just have to convince Lavon to invite Barry Paulson to tour Bluebell for a possible site for his restaurant chain. Then we will make sure he runs into Joel, who will be with Zoe, who will find out the truth, and we know how she feels about being lied to." Lemon's eyes got wide and she covered her mouth. It was the truth, but she knew that it was like a slap to Wade. She reached a hand to Wade's arm.

"Wade, I didn't mean-" she started, but Wade pulled back and grunted. She could tell he wanted to leave, but he was going to finish this conversation.

"No, Lemon. We are not going to follow your stupid plan. It's not worth it."

"Not worth it?" she questioned, appalled. Wade couldn't give up on Zoe.

"It's a dumb plan," he retorted slowly, as if she wasn't getting it. "Even _if_ you get Barry Paulson to come to Bluebell, what if he likes it and opens a _Chicken Shack_ franchise here? That's direct competition for the _Rammer Jammer,_ Lemon. And I've worked too hard to actually give away my business to a guy that probably makes more in a day than I do in a year!" He was yelling now, and Lemon looked around the bar to see if anyone was paying attention. Luckily, in the lull, there were only a few scattered souls in the bar.

"Wade, hush," she scolded, and he took a deep breath.

"Listen, Lemon, I appreciate your," he paused, "dedication," he finished. "But maybe it's time just to be done with this. It was a good try, but I think it's time to just move on. It's over." Wade rubbed the back of his neck and Lemon frowned.

"Wade Kinsella," Lemon declared, as she squared her shoulders. "This is not over. I have known you a long time, and I am telling you, this is not over. I will concede that my latest plan was not my finest work, and I do appreciate you telling me so. It tells me that I need a new strategy. And I will figure that out just as soon as I can."

"I'd rather you didn't," Wade replied, but Lemon could tell he wouldn't fight her on it. He shook his head as he moved toward the front door. She heard him mumble.

"What was that?" Lemon asked.

"Nothing, _darling_," he emphasized the last word. "Just going to hang up the open mic banner while things are quiet around here."

Lemon nodded. She was going to need a new plan, and fast. She was tired of this sullen Wade.


	10. Chapter 10

_Since the new season starts Monday, I figured I should wrap up this story. Hence two chapters in one day. Hope you've enjoyed!_

* * *

"I'm so sorry, Wade. I don't think I can do this," Rose's face was pale, and she looked a bit green. Wade's eyes went wide. It was she who asked him for help. She wanted to perform at tonight's open mic night, and asked him back before Zoe was due back in town. He was in a good mood that day, so he'd agreed. Rose picked one of those independent-country-kick-ass-woman songs. The tabs were easy to learn, and when they'd rehearsed, she sounded pretty good. Really good, actually. Even Wade had to acknowledge that in the foul mood that had taken him over in the last few days. Right now, however, he was about a minute from going on stage, and Rose was running in the opposite direction. He tried to whisper to her to come back, but it was no use. Wade looked back to the stage. Dash was in the middle of one of his dramatic readings. From what Wade could tell, it was one of the longest death scenes Mr. Shakespeare ever wrote. Wade knew if he didn't perform, Lemon would kill him- Rose's song was supposed to be squeezed between the reading and Tom's magic act, so there'd be time to set up all of his tricks. Lemon wouldn't stand to have dead air. '

Dash took his bows to a smattering of applause. Wade was still running through the list of covers he knew when he looked into the crowd to see Zoe sitting at a table with Lavon, AB, and Joel. For the week, he'd been leaving early in the morning, coming home even later than normal, her lights always off. Although, he assumed she wasn't living there anymore anyway, but he couldn't bear to find out for sure. To his knowledge, she avoided the Rammer Jammer, although the same could not be said for Joel, who'd been there for breakfast most days. 'Of course,' Wade realized, 'she came for Rose.'

"Thank you Dash for that lovely performance," Lemon said, as she crossed the stage from her perch on the other side. "Now, ladies and gentlemen, I am extremely proud to present the _Rammer Jammer's_ own _very_ talented Wade Kinsella and—" she turned her head to Wade, who loudly cleared his throat and violently shook his head 'no'. Lemon looked at him with one eyebrow raised, assessed the situation, and hardly missed a beat: "and his guitar!" The crowd perked up. It was a while since Wade performed in front of a crowd. Suddenly, his stomach was in knots. He took a deep breath and stepped onto the stage, crossing towards Lemon.

He sat on the edge of stool, his mind doubted the choice he'd made only seconds before. For grand gestures, this was about all he had. He was positioning his fingers when Lemon stood before him, her back to the crowd. Wade's eyebrows wrinkled as she bent towards him. "Trust me," she said to him leaning to him. She kissed him in front of the crowd, who hollered. His left hand moved to her waist, before he realized it was there. Once he did, he used that hand to gently push her back, hoping he didn't hurt her feelings. He knew what she was trying to do, but this was not the time.

"Well," Lemon chirped, a smile plastered on her face. She turned back to the crowd with her radiant smile and repositioned the mic stand in front of him, then crossed off stage. He gave her a small smile and tried to discreetly wipe his mouth with the back of his hand. He looked out over the crowd, avoiding Zoe's table. "Uh, this is a new thing I've been working on," he said, tentatively. He knew he couldn't say more, and wouldn't be able to look at the crowd again. He set his eyes above the bar and began to play.

He was about to start the second verse when he finally gained the confidence to look away from the wall above the bar. There was only one set of eyes he wanted to find, and when his gaze shifted to her, he was taken aback to face an empty stool. He looked at the rest of the members of the table, their eyes all focused on the door. Wade's gaze followed, and he caught the back of Zoe's hair as she left. Wade thought the message was pretty clear. He barely registered finishing the song. Even when the crowd erupted into applause Wade just stood, bowed his head slightly, and left the stage. He took his place behind the bar, sullen even when folks came to congratulate him. They seemed genuinely excited about his song, but he couldn't muster any pride.

It was a few minutes after Tom's awkward magic act when Lavon and Annabeth made their way over to Wade. Wade kept his eyes on the bar and lifted his head, "what can I getcha?"

"It was a real good song, Wade," Lavon said. Wade's head snapped up to see his friends, arms hooked through one another. Lavon looked at him with a somber look, and Annabeth had a sad smile on her face. Wade didn't want pity. He grunted in response, and hoped they would take the message and leave.

The couple looked at each other, and Annabeth turned to Wade, "we'll see you back home, right Wade?" After another noncommittal grunt, the pair left. Wade put his head down. That was about as much talking as he wanted to do for the rest of the evening.

Zoe was in the living room watching a movie when Lavon and Annabeth arrived home. She quickly stuffed the tissues scattered around her into the empty ice cream carton and wiped under her eyes for any errant tears. She knew it was pretty obvious that she'd been crying, but she might be able to pass it off as a response to the movie. It was lame, but it was her best chance.

Lavon and Annabeth entered quietly, exchanging a glance after seeing Zoe. Zoe knew they could see her puffy eyes even in the dim light. "Oh dear," Annabeth started, "I'll put a kettle on for some tea."

Lavon sat on the other side of the couch. "Z," he began, "about tonight…" he trailed off.

"There isn't much to say, Lavon. It's pretty clear, don't you think?" Annabeth reentered the room quietly and perched on the arm of the sofa, next to Lavon. She rested a hand on his shoulder, and he leaned his arm across her lap. "I missed my chance, guys. He couldn't have been more clear; singing the song he wrote for her in front of everyone? It's over. I was too late." Tears welled as she spoke and spilled over as she looked down at her hands. Zoe almost missed the look exchanged between Lavon and Annabeth. AB's eyes looked ready to pop out of her head. She nudged Lavon, who's mouth was slightly agape.

"Z," he said quietly. "The song wasn't for Lemon."

"It wasn't?" She looked up through her tears.

"You should have stayed for the second verse," he replied kindly. "It wasn't about Lemon." Annabeth squeezed his shoulder so hard that he took her hand in his. Zoe just stared at them, processing what she heard. After a few moments, she started to stand, unsure what to do next. The song wasn't for Lemon. The song about being driven nuts for a woman that was within his grasp wasn't for Lemon. It meant, she started to piece together, it meant that maybe she hadn't missed her chance. She started to walk to her house. She could feel Lavon and Annabeth stare at her, but neither spoke. Zoe couldn't think about them, she needed a plan. She knew it was time, and she wasn't going to let the opportunity pass by this time. When Lavon started to ask where she was going, Zoe mumbled something and kept walking. The couple looked at each other and shrugged. She seemed like she was on a mission.

Wade pulled in after last call. He was exhausted, and just wanted to drink his memories of the night away. As his shift wore on, he had become angrier and angrier. By now, he was practically seething at the thought of her just walking away while he laid it all on the line. In fact, he was almost sure that he never wanted to cross paths with Doctor Zoe Hart again. How he would do that in Bluebell, he wasn't sure, but it had mostly worked for a week, so maybe it wouldn't be impossible. Wade trudged up his porch steps. He reached for the door handle and stopped short before turning the handle. There was a note on the door, and his breath caught in his throat when he recognized the handwriting.

_Come over_ it read.

He snatched the note off the door and crumpled it in his hand. He quickly opened the door, stepped through it, and slammed it behind him. He was not going to be at her beck and call. She'd said everything she needed to, and if she thought she needed to let him down easy, well, he wasn't going to be pitied by her. He paced the gatehouse, while he opened a beer. He was not going over there, no matter what.

Twenty minutes later, his resolve was weakening. He'd tried making a list in his head of all the reasons he shouldn't go over. He snuck a peek out the window to see if she was over there. There might have been some candles lit, but it didn't look like any lights were on. It didn't matter, he thought, he wasn't going over there anyway.

Five minutes later, his hand was resting on the doorknob. Three beers ran through his system, but he didn't feel any foggier than normal. In fact, he considered the thoughts in his mind to be a bit too in-focus. Before he knew it, his hand turned the handle, and he was sailing down the steps and across the dirt path.

He came through the path and was in front of her darkened house before he'd fully registered his actions. He stopped at the mouth of the path. The doubts swelled in his head. What the hell was he doing here? He took two steps forward before he pivoted back.

"I'm glad you came," he heard a small voice coming from the dark say. His back was to her, and he froze in place. He couldn't just run away now- he'd been spotted. The voice continued, "I was starting to worry you wouldn't come." Wade's shoulders slumped. He sighed as he turned around.

"I probably shouldn't've," he replied, trying to find the voice in the darkness. He vaguely saw a shape shifting on the porch steps. It looked like she was wrapped in a blanket. It occurred to Wade that the air was cool. "Sorry, Doc. I'll just be on my way," he said, and turned again.

"Wade, wait." It was the first time he'd heard her say his name in months, and it stopped him again. The anger swelled. She shouldn't be able to have this control over him, he thought.

"Dammit, Zoe," he said, facing the shape on the stairs again. He stepped into the light cast by the moon. "I'm not doing this. I'm done. I'm done with the back and forth, I'm done with the wonderin'. What is it you want, Zoe?" He spat the question, his eyes strained to read her face. He willed the tears away from his eyes.

She mumbled something in response. It frustrated him more. He moved closer, and halved the distance between them. He didn't know what to do with the feelings that swelled inside him. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't walk away. "What did you say?" he barked. His face froze when he heard her.

"You," she repeated, her face turned up in his direction. He could see her bite her lower lip. The silence between them filled with the pulsing of bullfrogs. Wade was dumbstruck. It wasn't the answer he was expecting, but there was a part of him that knew it was what he wanted. She slowly stood, and moved to the bottom step. His mind was made when she opened her arms, the blanket unwrapped around her. He took the remaining steps towards her, and closed the distance between them. His hands reached for her face, their foreheads touched, her hands wrapped around his wrists.

He started to tilt her face to his, and her hands squeezed his wrists, "it wasn't about Lemon," she whispered.

"What?" he asked, and tilted his head back. Shit. He was going to have to explain the fake relationship. And then there was her real relationship. Shit. The decisiveness of moments ago evaporated.

Unaware of his conflict, Zoe continued. "The song from tonight- it's not about Lemon."

Wade's head continued to spin. It never occurred to him that she could have thought it was about anyone but her. He looked at her, a hopeful smile played across her face in the moonlight.

"No," he said, "nothing was ever about Lemon." The trance seemed completely broken now, and his hands dropped from her face. He took a step back and rubbed his neck. He had to be honest. "Truth is, there never was a Lemon and me. It was a plan cooked up by Lemon to make you jealous so you'd break up with Joel. And, you know, since that didn't happen, Doc…" he really didn't want to have to finish the sentence, and he let his hands drop to his sides. He didn't understand why her face had moved from concern back to a sly smile.

"I don't need to break up with Joel," she replied, taking his hands. His brows furrowed. "We were never together. When I came back and Lemon was hanging all over you, I just let you think what you wanted to. I was so hurt. I came back to tell you I knew what I wanted. I came back to tell you what I should have told you months ago. I love you, Wade Kinsella."

He was going to be mad at the deception until he processed her words. A smile crept along his features, until it matched hers. He took her face in his hands again, and kissed her without hesitation. Her arms wrapped around his neck and he moved her hands to her waist and pulled her closer. After a few moments, the kiss broke and they stayed close, foreheads connected.

"I should have done this the moment I got back into town," she said, her smile huge. He nodded, and a chuckle of relief escaped his lips. He knew there was still a lot they needed to figure out, but he hadn't felt this happy in a long time. He kissed her again, this time with less urgency. She took his hands, and tugged him up the stairs, still locked in the kiss. When she opened the door, he lifted her into his arms and brought her inside.


End file.
